


Breathe In

by staravager



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Implied/Reference Alcohol Use, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Makeouts, Marijuana, Shotgunning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:48:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23352718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/staravager/pseuds/staravager
Summary: Gansey has never tried weed. Adam changes that for him.
Relationships: Brief Mention of Ronan Lynch/Richard Gansey III, Richard Gansey III/Adam Parrish
Kudos: 35





	Breathe In

**Author's Note:**

> weed makes ya gay

Richard C. Gansey III did not do drugs. He wasn’t that much of a drinker either and that possibly was due to his upbringing in a family of politicians. It wasn’t that he didn’t like to drink or didn’t want to try all the substances at places like Kavinsky’s parties but there wasn’t ever a moment to sit down to process those drugs in environments that felt remotely safe to do so. When Gansey stopped to think about the world in which he had created for himself, it meant coming to terms with the fact he really had engrossed himself so deeply in his search for Glendower that there was no such thought given to ever just taking a leap to do those drugs. Oftentimes, he contemplated why he had never just done what most teenagers did- being rebellious and all. There was one time where Ronan and Gansey once got smashed in their living room on Mike’s on a summer afternoon. That was the extent of it though. Even then, Gansey felt it was better to just carve out his afternoon. Ronan had teased that he booked in drinking like there should be a schedule for events like this. How could Gansey ever just enjoy spontaneous day drinking? So, somewhere between gaining access to his third life and the realization that this third life was not going to stop for him, Gansey decided to take advantage of trying spontaneously living. It started before leaving with Blue on the adventure of a lifetime. He showed up on Ronan’s porch with two twenty-four packs of whatever Ronan was drinking most. They ended up two acres into the eighty acre property, half delirious and singing bad Welsh hymns. Gansey remembers that night in pieces. He is fond of it partially due to Ronan having the loud, intoxicating laugh of their youth. The other part of being fond of it is the sense of being alive. Richard C. Gansey III was alive- actively living! 

Which brings Gansey to the present, laundry basket tucked under his arm, picking up stray socks or underwear off the floor. Today is the day that he does not mix a red pair of underwear into Adam’s work socks. Bouncing down the wooden stairs, Gansey can hear the low volume of a true crime documentary on the television which means that Adam must be finishing what they did not get to watch last night. The night before ended with Adam’s curled body on the love seat, snoring so soft that you couldn’t tell he had passed out. Gansey could never wake Adam when he had fallen asleep. It felt cruel when Gansey had done it so much in the past. Rounding the corner, Gansey did not just come in contact with the immediate sight of the television but the pungent, savory scent of marjuana. Now, this was something that was very common for Gansey to smell. Throughout his life, when his mother said she was going to clean the bathroom then this smell came with the smell of bleach. When Ronan was habitually racing, this same smell clung to his clothes just like booze. Ronan did not smoke weed so his fingertips never smelled of it. Ronan only ever really tasted like beer and cigarettes with the occasional burn of tequila on his tongue. Yet, if Gansey really had thought about it; Adam sometimes did smell like the musty scent of car parts and weed. Needless to say, his curiosity about it had been nothing more than having it just exist around him. 

Currently, Adam had his head tilted back on the couch with his eyes closed in relaxed bliss. It was very clear that he had no idea anyone was home. Ronan had announced a snack run so Adam naturally thought Gansey would be going. They always went together in the past. Adam picks his head up, takes another drag from a thickly rolled blunt between his fingers while actively ignorant to Gansey existing in the doorway. Gansey, on the other hand, is frozen in the way Adam looks right now. The turn of Adam’s head to meet his blunt looks so elegant given that his shirt is far too big so the collar inches further along his shoulder than up close to his neck. Gansey does not remember having a dry mouth before watching Adam allow smoke to roll out his nostrils then blow out his mouth. Another drag allows for an even dryer mouth but the smell is not something Gansey is used to so he sneezes which follows with Adam jumping to his feet to ash to blunt. 

“ _Gansey!_ ” 

“Adam!” 

They stand in awe of each other after Adam lights an incense stick. An awkward silence settles over them before they both try to speak at the same time, apologize at the same time, eventually just scoff off laughter because this is like a bad comedy skit. 

“You can smoke. Don’t let me interrupt you, please. I’m about to do some laundry.” Gansey holds up the basket to prove his innocence, moving now to come around the couch to pick up another stray sock! Chainsaw must be going through her sock phase again. Adam keeps watching him. Gansey continues, “We might have to stack some books on the laundry baskets again. Chainsaw seems to be taking anyone’s socks. I would hate to see-” 

“Do you want to try?” Adam cuts Gansey off. It’s rare for that to happen between them so Gansey places the laundry basket on the floor, sliding it out of the way before crawling onto the couch to make himself comfortable underneath one of the blankets. Fairness is the word that feels right at this moment. Fairness in that Gansey should try it with Adam since he did interrupt Adam. Adam feels safe to try it with especially since they are under the roof of the Lynch estate. 

“Don’t feel obligated.” Adam states, shoving his hands in his sweat pockets to fidget with the lighter that was shoved in there then yanking them out again to fidget with the string on his sweats. Gansey rolls his neck. A situation like this is hard to navigate with Adam. He doesn’t want to say something to freak him out more than he already has. Gansey shoves his dominant hand on his neck to rub out a sore that does not exist. 

“I haven’t done it before so you will have to teach me how, Parrish.” 

Dry mouth isn’t supposed to be contagious but here they are with mouths dry. Adam Parrish has never fumbled but there are first times for just about everything in the world. Including, yet not limited to, the way the redheaded gentleman searches through an antique jewelry box for a new joint. Something just felt very wrong about letting Gansey take a hit off of one that had already been smoked halfway through; Adam wants nothing more than to make this an experience that can be replicated. So, after going after a new blunt and digging the black lighter out of his pocket, Adam has himself positioned in front of the other. They are face to face. They are both unable to look at each other. When did it get so embarrassing to do a task you had considered so casual before? Even the explanation of it takes more than twenty minutes to do. God! Adam Parrish has done this part many times. Every single friend that Adam has had and still has gets this explanation but looking at the dark-skinned boy propped up against the arm of the couch, who’s wide brown eyes seem so serious, makes the dry mouth feeling just shoot right down the throat and explode with butterflies in the pit of the stomach. It doesn’t even help that the moment that Adam hands over the blunt, hands Gansey the lighter, and allows Gansey to give it a shot, that Gansey immediately fucks up the initial inhale but all Adam can stare at is the bobbing of Gansey’s throat. Adam comes to his senses and hands Gansey a glass of water. 

There is more silence between them. “I don’t think I can do that again. It’s pretty difficult to hold it.” Gansey breaks it first. He’s flushed from the coughing and from the embarrassment. He never wants to fuck up so visibly in front of Adam. It’s something about the way Adam turns his head to chuckle while reaching his hand out to take the blunt. “Don’t laugh! I told you that you would have to teach me.” Gansey laughs right along with Adam, the nervousness fluttering into his chest and into his burning throat. 

“No, it’s charming to see you try so seriously. You are a good student.” Adam leans over to ash the very little amount of ash that is building on the end. A slight shake on the fingertips, “I think I might know a way to make it easier. Come here.” A hand motion to beckon Gansey even closer. So, Gansey is scooting closer. The documentary has since finished, leaving them in the sound of silence for just a moment. The moment is forever. Okay, not forever but Gansey would absolutely say it is forever. 

The silence that is forever is not uncomfortable but Gansey absolutely feels like a fool for not getting it right while Adam so casually places the blunt against his lips and lights much in the way that Ronan has lightened a cigarette. Blunt tilted downward, accepting the flame of the lighter and immediately releasing the thick white smoke that dissipates into the air while the rest of it is pulled deep into Adam’s lungs. Gansey is at attention when Adam, who’s mouth gaps ever so slightly, beckons Gansey to lean forward. The wind is out of the guy's lungs when Adam takes his thumb and forefinger, gently pulling Gansey’s chin downward to open his mouth and lean in ever so gently. “Breathe in.” is spoken strained and as Gansey breaths in, Adam’s smoke pours into his mouth. It’s easy. It is so much sweeter. The feeling in his head is so rushed. The feeling in his stomach is so tight.

“Hold it.” Gansey holds it.

“That’s it.” Adam is watching so intently.

“Breathe out.” Gansey breathes out with a shaking breath. The weight behind his eyes sparks a bit of a headache but it’s mostly from the rush. “Good job.” Is the spark in Gansey’s stomach from those words what it means to be high? 

They do it again. This time Adam makes Gansey hold it for longer which only results in Gansey starting another coughing fit but they keep doing it. Time passes between them easily while they are doing this. Gansey is starting to feel confident too! There is no speaking between them still but that’s okay. Gansey does not like to fill the space with words especially when those words are oftentimes his disastrous outcomes in the English language. (See: Talking to Blue about paying for her time.) Yet, even in the silence, Gansey feels like there is so much being spoken between them. Who knew this activity was so peaceful? Gansey knew this peace would come with someone like his dearest Magician but it is always nice to be confirmed that being with Adam for this does not feel so scary for the wrong reasons. In his internal thought, Gansey motions for the blunt. Redemption is in his sights but this redemption will be one that is done with a rejoice. 

When Gansey takes it, he takes the drag with a slight struggle. This time, Gansey keeps the courage running in his veins by crawling into Adam’s lap. Gansey’s hand pulls Adam’s chin up while the blunt dangles between those fingers. He leads Adam like Adam has led him and blows the smoke in. Eyes are bloodshot. This blunt gets pulled from Gansey’s hand faster than Gansey can even make the motion to reject the blunt snatching while in the same thread of motion Adam is shoving his face forward to have their lips crash together. Smoke is billowing out between them in the similar ease in which a whine is shared by one or the other. Neither could tell you which one whined first but it doesn’t matter to either of them. Hands travel up Gansey’s back, holding him so firmly in that lap that another sigh comes billowing out. Adam bites that lip with such a practiced ease that Gansey can’t even help but lose his breath even more. Panting is picking up, hips aren’t guided but follow instinctual guidelines that only serve to make both of them groan in sync. Gansey’s hands cannot be kept to themselves. They travel the edges and curves of Adam’s shoulders. Adam sighs. Those shoulders lead to a gorgeously sculpted neck before Gansey is lost in curled locks. 

Adam Parrish. 

Adam Parrish. 

Adam Parrish. 

All Gansey can think of is Adam Parrish. Lips descend into tongues, easing along each other and the graceless clashing of teeth because what Gansey does not know is that Adam could consume all aspects of Gansey. He would consume patches of tanned skin to form red and purple bruises. He does. They pull from the kiss so fast purely because Adam feels that need to flare up. Gansey tilts his head back, letting Adam work on him. Gansey feels like he is starting to fall apart. The muscle in his neck is being tortured in the best way. Cloud nine is absolutely nothing when it comes to the bite Adam places right below Gansey’s ear. That bite marks the end. Adam let’s go, pulls away, stares at Gansey with a look of confirmation which is only returned with a soft expression. Of course this is okay. This is always okay. Gansey softens when Adam presses more kisses to his cheeks. 

Yeah, he could totally smoke more often.

**Author's Note:**

> partially edited, for a dear friend of mine. follow me on twitter @paganistics


End file.
